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Xallan 3d
He just wrote it.
He buried himself in words.
He didn't need paper to succeed, he just flew
in an airplane suspended by thoughts-
not his, but big strong thoughts-
he flew,
upon letters of recommendation
and capital sentences:
to jump his bail, fly the coop, escape from jail.
He folded his passion in life ori-gami,
gave it some ****** with his mind,
and off it went,
finding some draft in the stale and lifeless air.
He lept off the cliff, and what luck-
He flew.
It is liberating indeed,

to be accepted inside and out for who you trully are;

being able to love who you want to love,

to choose whom you want to spend the rest of your life with,

and to live freely under your skin with comfort;

not needing to hide under layers of masks—

for life is not a masquerade.
You’re living your life to the most, if you can live your life to the fullest by being authentic.
Johnny walker Nov 24
Remembering the first time I started loving
Helen, the very first time
I laid eye's on her, to look upon her face and to feel
radiating warmth of her
love, eye's that could tell all with just glance, a voice
naughty but nice such a tease she could
But all done tastefully you'd be left with the feeling of just wanting more, but Helen's Incredible kindness to all
everybody loved
What you saw In her Is what you got, there were no lies to Helen, just a beautiful person to be and I had the privilege to be her husband and to have known such a wonderful lady the twenty years we
It was a privilege to be Helen husband she was an Incredible lady who loved by all unforgettable that she Is
Efa Nuryani Nov 18
If anything, your lies and promises used to and still be my favorite reminiscences...
Yet, my remorse, darling?
Was yearning for your fictitious love...
Giving you a happified privilege to watch me angsting and dying for nothing...

Carter Ginter Oct 30
As I picture myself in the future
Through years of HRT
Small glimmers of excitement
Reflect off the walls of my heart
I rarely feel excitement these days
So this instance is important
I picture ****** hair and muscles
A deepened voice ands flat chest
The physical changes excite me
It's the social ones that scare me
I cannot imagine having male privilege
I cannot imagine not feeling objectified
I cannot imagine being read as a man
I was raised in a position of oppression
I am constantly stared at and made into
Nothing more than the prospect of my *******
And yet,
One day,
It will no longer be that way
I'll just look like a basic white boy
And they'll have no idea
Except that I will not stay silent
I will not hide in the shadows
I am transmasculine and nonbinary
And I refuse to remain invisible
Penguin Poems Oct 23
You shake your head
as if the truth will fall right out of your ears the same way it entered
because you don't want to believe it.
You're so caught up in your own 'opinion' that you can't even open your mind up to the possibility you might be wrong.
You are given facts, statistics, news stories, yet you are unable to listen to reason.

While the straight white male ahead of me shakes his head at the possibility of being privileged,
A mother mourns over the loss of her son, a black man shot by a cop for no reason other than fear of his skin color,
another woman is silenced by her ****** through sharp threats in a dark closet,
my own mind flips back to when my aunt was disowned by most of her family for loving a woman.

Yet you, who can drive past a cop on the highway without breaking  a sweat,
can walk down the street at night alone without breaking a sweat,
can show your parents your lover without breaking a sweat,
think that you aren't any more lucky than the other people I listed prior.
Oh, if you only knew how to open your mind, just slightly, instead of shake the truth out.
Lying to yourself only makes it worse when you realize the truth.
This happened at an assembly and it made me so mad I couldn't take it. The speaker was the author of All American Boys and other novels, and talking about white/male privilege and the person in front of me wouldn't stop throwing his hands up in the air and shaking his head. Like, at least listen to what he has to say.
mjad Oct 15
He only goes with "skinny *******" or so his friends say
But it's alright, I don't go with guys who call girls "*******" anyway
The moat where we keep watery fowl
afloat feeding them cracked corn
scattered from our parapets.
Repaired the dry rot in the gate, got the
drawbridge working, again…it rusts.
There is dust, makes us sneeze.
Stumble over stones, look at masons
askance.  Threaten grain withholding
(hint:  barley) unless they
make ‘em flush.
How fun to keep
the keep
Always interested in  concept of time travel and having to tackle situations with modern skill set.  Never turns out well.
Frank DeRose Aug 20
I suffer from a self-inflicted affliction,
Indeed, the guilt of my benefaction
By the decree of my skin tone at birth,
At the expense of the bodies and souls of my darker brothers and sisters,
Gnaws at the rough edges of my soul.

I feel shame when I consider
The ease with which I move through the circles of society,
While others pause at every edge,
Eye their surroundings,
Look for exit points,
Gauge their safety.

And I double down on my guilt,
Knowing that it is more coping mechanism
Than it is agent of change.
“As bad as things are,
At least I feel bad that they’re bad,”
I reason.

As if that makes things better.

As if that’s oxygen in the black man’s lungs.

As if it helps him breathe.

Still, I do what I can.

I confront racism where I see it,
Voice my opposition to the systemic injustices from which I benefit.

I have made enemies,
Perhaps even of myself,
A price I’d gladly pay
Ten thousand times over, for 400 years and more.

Because it’s not about me.

Not any more.

It’s not about me.
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